A Rookie's Start to Season 6
by Whatisausername3
Summary: Yates knew that so matter how long she was in the Red vs Blue universe, she was going to be in trouble. She was finally out of Blood Gulch, but that was a small comfort knowing what lay in store for her and the rest of the sim troopers. Now, all she could hope for was that they wouldn't all end up dead as Season 6 started. Based off of the fan-fic 'Rookies' by TheGuyWhoWroteAStory.


**This is a one shot I made based off of the Red vs Blue fic 'Rookies' made by TheGuyWhoWroteAStory. It's a really funny insert fic about two people who find themselves in the RVB universe. This fic is something I came up with if they ended up ever making it to Season 6. I don't claim or even pretend to have any ownership or creation of the OC characters, I just am fan of the story who came up with something. I recommend going and reading the story if you haven't already. Have fun!**

Yates knew this was going to happen. She had hoped that she could avert this event, but ultimately, she was pretty sure that the universe was just going to find some way to screw her over in the end. Now, facing a firing squad line of her own squad mates, she just hoped that she hadn't screwed the timeline enough to doom them.

"Any last words?" asked Corporal Sharpe (Yates had always wondered what his name was), his magenta highlights distinguishing him from the rest of the squad.

"Yeah," said Grif, standing on the other side of Simmons. "You guys suck."

Sharpe didn't seem to care. He turned towards the four red troops that made up the firing line. "Ready… aim…" he called.

The troops raised their rifles in response and aimed at the three sim troopers lined against the base wall.

Simmons sighed, "Killed by our own men. Couldn't see this coming," he said sarcastically.

Yates glanced at him. "Would you think I was pessimistic if I told you this didn't come as too much of a surprise?"

Grif looked past Simmons at her. "Maybe. But to be honest, I've always found you to be the most realistic one here, so maybe it's all just fate."

Yates snorted. "Grif you have no idea," she muttered under her breath. She glanced down the track towards the bend. _C'mon Sarge, hurry up. I'd rather not get shot with these idiots_.

Simmons raised his hand as the red troopers clicked their safeties off. "Waitwaitwait, wait!"

"What?" Sharpe snapped.

"Uhh, don't we get a last request, y-you know, anything like that?" Simmons stammered.

"What do you want?"

Grif sneered at the corporal, "How 'bout for starters you suck my-"

Simmons hurriedly cut him off, "Shouldn't you read us our charges first?"

"You know what you did," Sharpe said. "You were in charge of our ammunition and you lost it all."

"Don't you think it's ironic that you're about to shoot us because we don't have enough ammo?" Grif asked.

Yates rolled her eyes. "No Grif. What's ironic is that they're about to shoot us while **we** are holding fully loaded rifles of our own."

Grif grunted. "Fair point Yates. Also," He directed back to Sharpe, "Lost and sold to the other team? Two totally different things."

"Uh yeah, I also would like to point out that I did **not **help them sell the ammo to the other team." Yates said raising her hand.

"Yeah, but you when you found out you tried to cover up for them," Sharpe countered. "Anyways, you guys don't really care about protocol. You're just delaying."

"Yes, that's true," Simmons said authoritatively. "But it's **also** true you have to read us a list of our charges. It's in the Red Army Handbook Section on Firing Squad, Subsection 2.9C Page 93 3rd Paragraph."

"Uh, yeah, exactly. Subsection 2.9C," Yates said distractedly, throwing another glance down the track.

"You two are going to die nerds," said Grif. "So sad."

Simmons hissed at him through gritted teeth. "You wanna die in the next two seconds or die a nerd with us five minutes from now?"

Grif hesitated for a moment.

"Well?!"

"I'm thinking!" Grif thought for a moment. "Fine! Yeah, what he said. Section whatever-whatever."

"I think you're bluffing," Sharpe retorted. "I never read that."

"Uh, have you read the Red Army Handbook?" asked Grif.

"I…uh…well…no."

"That's because nobody has and nobody will," Grif declared. "Except these two. He's memorized it-"

"In three languages!" Simmons piped up.

"And she, for some reason, actually gives enough of a crap to read it."

Yates cast a look at Grif across Simmons. "Well, I kinda had to. It's sorta my duty now."

Grif shook his head in disappointment. "Yates, you just have to realize, you are a free person. You don't have to do anything, you don't have to care about anything, like me."

Yates snorted, "Yeah, cause you're a model of a person."

As Sharpe gathered the firing squad around to discuss their plan of action, Grif whispered to Simmons and Yates, "Is that a real rule?"

"I have no clue!" Simmons responded. "But they'll either read the handbook or read the charges. Either way we're alive for a few more minutes."

"Uh, Yates?" Grif caught her staring down the track. "What are you looking at?"

Yates started guiltily. "Uh, nothing! Just… wondering if we can make a run for it."

Yates silently cursed herself for almost being caught. The Reds still didn't know that she was from another world, though they had almost made her several times before. She did her best to explain her odd decisions in dangerous situations, and fortunately the Reds were stupid to believe her. She could also count on Sarge's total faith in her, Simmon's inability to have a proper one-on-one conversation with her, and Grif's complete incapability to give a fuck to help her out.

However, she could never kick the fear that she was going to majorly screw something up in the timeline. Things had all worked out similarly to the show for the most part. Being 'sent to the future,' Wyoming, the final fight with Omega, everything had played out like in the show. There were a few things that had surprised her though. For example, it turned out that she and Shepard couldn't be controlled by any AI. When Omega tried, he had shown up in their heads, but seemed unable to manipulate them. It was a weird experience, with Omega ranting at her about how he couldn't figure out what was going on. Before he left though, he got strangely quiet and laughed maniacally as he left. Yates had lain awake at night for a week afterwards, wondering what he was laughing about. Had he figured out who she was? Who Shepard was?

She had hoped that nothing big would change and throw the show's timeline out of whack. There had been a couple changes, including a big one recently, but nothing that disrupted the show's events. Everything seemed to work out the way it was supposed to.

Unfortunately, it being the Red vs. Blue universe, that didn't always play out in her favor. Such as…

"Yeah," said Sharpe having finished the debate with his squad mates. "We decided that sounds like too much trouble. So we're just going to shoot you and say the Blues did it."

"Oh wait," groaned Simmons, "I didn't think about the 'fuck it, we're lazy' option."

"I thought of it, I just didn't want to explain it," said Grif. "Fuck it."

Yates sighed heavily, "Thank you Grif, for your wonderful contribution to the team. What would we do without you?"

"Eat all the snacks by yourselves?"

"Fuck you, fatass."

"Ready weapons!" Sharpe called out.

The troops in the firing line responded and pointed their rifles at the three soldiers. Yates slowly began to panic. _Calm down calm down, it'll be fine. Sarge'll come charging around the corner in the Warthog and save us at the last second. That's what will happen. Just like in the show._ _Oh God Sarge hurry up!_

Simmons yelped in fear. "Grif, Yates, this looks like it's it! Listen, there's something I always wanted to tell both of you."

Grif looked at both of them. "I have something I want to say to you too guys," he said, uncharacteristically serious.

"You first!" sobbed Simmons.

"Y-yeah, go ahead Grif!" Yates couldn't help another glance down the track. _Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!_

"Ready!" yelled Sharpe.

"Simmons, it was me who stole your identity and ran up all those credit card charges at the pawn shops and peep shows. And Yates, it was me who hid that webcam in your bathroom. Sorry."

Yates' attention was suddenly ripped from the end of the track. "Wait, what?!"

"Aim!"

Grif 'whewed' a sigh of relief. "I feel so much better now that I got that off my chest. So what'd you wanna say to me?"

Simmons sighed. "I seem to have forgotten," he growled at Grif.

Yates glared at Grif in a mixture of disbelief, disgust, and pure venom. Grif had pulled some major shit on her, but this one took the cake. "You fucking, perverted son of a bitch. I oughta-"

"Fire!"

Yates turned back to the firing line just as the soldiers opened fire. There were several BANGs, a roar, a grey blur, and then a Warthog screeched to a halt on their right with Sarge behind the wheel. "Simmons! Grif! Yates! There you are!"

Simmons stared at the jeep in disbelief. "Are we dead?"

"Well if we are, then hell looks just like the army," Grif said. "Big suprise there."

Sarge hopped out of the jeep. "I've been looking all over for you three."

"Sarge?" Simmons ran over to him.

"And would you look at that, they even got the devil looking just right," Grif chortled. "Am I right, Yates?"

"I don't know Grif," Yates spat viciously. "What was that about a webcam IN MY BATHROOM?!"

Grif started guiltily. He had not expected to live beyond his confession and realized there were going to be some major consequences. "Uhh… I-"

Grif was interrupted by a loud THWACK. They turned just in time to see Sharpe fall to the ground and Sarge standing over him with his shotgun.

Yates growled. "Let's deal with this first. But trust me, I am going to have your hide."

Grif whimpered softly, "Yes ma'am."

Yates sighed. If only he always had this level of respect for her, they wouldn't be in this mess. But Grif rarely had respect for anyone so this would have to do.

"Come on you three, let's get a move on!" Sarge barked. "Where's your commanding officer?"

"She's right there, sir!" Simmons nodded in Yates' direction.

Sarge started in surprise. "What? Y-Yates…you're the sergeant of this team?"

"Uh, yeah," Yates said awkwardly. "When you refused to relocate, they had to promote someone to be in charge, and, well, they chose me."

"And a fine sergeant she is sir!" piped Simmons. "You would be very proud of her."

Grif scoffed, "Even without Sarge you're still a kissass."

"What was that, Peeping Tom?" snarled Yates

"Uhh, nothing ma'am!"

Sarge stared at Yates in disbelief. "You're a-a sergeant now Yates?"

"Uhh, yes sir," Yates shared a look with Simmons, then looked at Sarge quizzically. "You ok?"

"I-I-," Sarge sniffed and held up his hand, "I'm sorry, j-just, give me a minute." He wiped his eyes (or rather, his vizor) and choked back a sob.

Sharpe looked between the red troops in disbelief. "I'm sorry but is he-is he crying?"

"I-uh, guess so." Yates turned to Sarge. "Hey, uh sir? You ok?" she asked again.

"It's just- it's just- I always knew this day would come," Sarge sobbed. "You know that, as a commanding officer, that someday your troops will grow up to be commanding officers and lead squads of their own. You know that, but oh you just can't really prepare for the day it happens. I-I mean, I always knew you had it in you Yates. Out of all the members in my squad, I knew you would be promoted."

"Did-did you think I had it in me, sir?" Simmons asked timidly.

Sarge went on without any indication he heard him. "But now seeing you here and leading your own squad, it's almost too much to bear."

"Keyword being 'almost'," Grif grumbled.

"But," Sarge sniffed, "but I've got to remember you're not my inferior anymore. You're a bona fide sergeant now, and you deserve that rank." He snapped to attention and brought his shotgun to his shoulder. "Sergeant Yates," he brought his hand to his forehead sharply, "I salute you."

Yates glanced around awkwardly and shyly returned his salute. "Uh, thanks sir. At ease, I guess."

Sarge relaxed. "Ok gents and lady let's get going. We've got an important mission from command. Pile into the jeep."

"Uh, sir? There's only three seats," Simmons pointed out.

"Very true Simmons," Sarge said. "So, we'll have to discuss the unfortunate matter of transporting Grif along with us."

"What?" asked Grif.

"I was thinking we could tie the tow cable to him and drag him behind us," Sarge mused, "but I realized his enormous weight would slow us down and throw off our steering."

"Gee Sarge, why don't you just tie me down to the hood like a shot deer?" Grif asked.

"I thought about that, but your bulbous shape would block the windshield and minimize the view of the driver."

Grif sighed. "Good to hear you're thinking ahead sir. Glad to have you back."

"It's ok sir," Yates said quickly. "Command supplied me with a bike after I was promoted, so I'll just take that."

Sarge chuckled, "Already enjoying the fruits of command I see, Sgt. Yates. That's good. Enjoy every bit of your newfound status and command."

"Yeah, because you don't get anything else in this army," Grif grumbled.

"Alright numbnuts, just get in the jeep."

"Shotgun!" called Simmons.

"Shotg-fuck!" swore Grif.

Yates raced to get her Mongoose (seriously who came up with these names?) which fortunately was close by. As she went, the realization of the situation suddenly hit her. Season 6 for Red vs. Blue was now beginning, and if she remembered correctly, this is when the show got really dangerous. The Meta, more freelancers, Agent Washington, and more new threats were rising which she would have to take in consideration. As she got on the bike and put the keys in the ignition, she hoped that somehow Shepherd was somehow going to get involved in all this again. She knew it was kind of mean of her to hope that, but she had felt comforted in Blood Gulch knowing that someone else was from the real world and going through the same experiences she was.

She turned the keys and started up the engine. It had been a while since they last saw each other. After they left Blood Gulch, they hadn't been able to get in touch since they were on opposing teams. She hoped he was doing alright. From what he had said, he was being paired with Caboose, which he didn't seem too thrilled about. But, as he had said, it was certainly better than being paired with Church.

She revved the engine and drove over to Sarge and the others, who were already piled into the jeep. Sarge was talking with Sharpe about something, probably explaining why he had burst in on an execution in an armored vehicle at high velocity. He looked at Yates as she trundled up, "Ah, good! Well, I've told you all I can, but Sgt. Yates will give you your orders for while she's gone."

"Uh, right," Yates turned to a very confused Sharpe. "So, I'm not going to be back until, well actually I don't think I am coming back, so you're now in charge Sharpe. Congratulations, you've been promoted, I think. I don't actually know how the process works."

"Uh," Sharpe looked at her, "Thanks, I guess. What the hell is going on?"

"Sgt. Yates!" Sarge barked. "We need to get a move on! Let's move out!" He started off down the track in the jeep.

Yates shot after him. "It would take too long to explain!" she called back. "Just don't die or whatever! You'll figure it out!" She leaned forward on her bike as she followed Sarge out of the base. If she was right about what would happen next, she was going to need to figure out how to stop them from almost killing the Blues and getting killed by the Meta.


End file.
